Day 13 - Belize Blog
(author's note: I didn’t tote the notebook anywhere on April 27, but fear not - nothing terribly out of sorts happened.)
11:40 a.m. – Cue up the traditional Irish folk song theme, but it’s not the leaving of Caye Caulker that’s grieving me, but darling when I think of thee.
The water taxi “Belizean Beauty” pulled up to the dock. Only fitting that one Belizean beauty begets another.
Noon – Pulled back into La Isla Bonita. And again, before an NBA shot-clock violation occurred, we were propositioned for necklaces and drugs. The 3 p.m. Thunderbolt can’t come quick enough.
Now, while I didn’t tote the notebook around yesterday, I did come about with some reflection, realization, and reward. Clarity. But to write that down would have caused two things to happen: me to run out of ink and you to be bored by 21st century existentialism. Or you would have been impressed. Either way, I write game notes for a living and I leave it to you to draw your own conclusions.
Grabbed a lunch of chicken, rice and beans, and some cole slaw – you know, something different – at Elvi’s Kitchen, one of the top-rated restaurants on San Pedro. Ordered up a round of ceviche, too. That’s quickly becoming Belizean culinary crack to me. Can’t have enough of it. If I were to stay here for another couple of weeks, you might see me roaming the streets, unshowered and unshaven, begging for ha-pennies to buy some ceviche (essentially salsa with lime, cilantro, and shrimp).
After that, Matt and I did some proper bar-hopping from bad, to worse, to let me get this one down as quick as possible so I don’t miss the last boat.
3:10 p.m. – Thankfully the Thunderbolt was a few minutes late. We’re a few minutes past the dock and all 750+ horsepower are cranking toward Corozal. I feel safe though, knowing the Belize Coast Guard is on the job.
I don’t board a plane for the U.S. until Wednesday, but I’ve resigned myself to the fact that the trip is over.
Tonight in Corozal, then an all-day bus trip through Mexico, then to a nameless, faceless Courtyard by Marriott by the Cancun airport. It’s sad to leave the Cayes, but the last 5.5 days have been simply amazing (and that’s to grossly underrate “amazing.”)
**stream of consciousness warning** Holy shit, why do I have Train’s “Drops of Jupiter” on my iPod? That’s almost as bad as Deniece Williams...
I feel ready for anything and everything now. Perhaps I was a lot better off than I thought previously. Perhaps I just needed to relax. Perhaps it’s going to be a difficult transition not wearing flip-flops to work.
6:00 p.m. – Another solid meal at Patty’s Bistro, all my packing done, and time to watch the Celtics hopefully win a road playoff game at Atlanta.
(author's note: I sure didn’t think I’d still have to be typing that sentence kind of 20 days later…)